“Your father?” Andrew scoffed, though a smile cracked the facade. He leaned onto his desk, resting his forearms on the soft leather pad. “Yes, he probably would. But what other choice do you have?”
“That’s what I’m asking you. And you haven’t been very helpful.”
Andrew’s eyes narrowed, and he steepled his fingers together. “Perhaps I can speak with everyone else about getting out of this obligation. I hate to see you in a bind.”
“No,” Leonard said, waving a hand. It was just like Andrew to try and help, but this was Leonard’s burden to bear. “I will not back out. That would be humiliating.”
Andrew tossed his hands up as he leaned back in his chair. “The only other thing I can recommend past ruining your investments would be to find something of value and sell it.”
Leonard sat up straighter in his chair, his hopes lifting. “Now that’s a thought.” One he hadn’t considered but was much more appealing than running off to his father for help.
“And you just happen to have a piece of jewelry sitting around?”
As a matter of fact, Leonard did. He snapped his fingers. “My great-grandmother’s diamond ring.”
Andrew’s eyebrows rose.
“With its size and rarity, I’m sure it would fetch a good price.”
“And you would rather sell a family heirloom than ask your father for a loan?”
He scoffed. “Without a doubt.”
“Come now,” Andrew all but pleaded. “That seems quite drastic.”
“Please. You and I were not so very different once upon a time. It isn’t my fault that you went and fell in love and now look at theworld through rose-colored lenses.” Andrew was a second son as well, though their situations did differ in some regards—such as, Leonard was expected to fulfill the role of eldest, without actually being one.
Andrew watched him, his gaze unconvinced.
“You must understand,” Leonard continued. “It’s either sell the ring or remove my investments. Now, which would you recommend?”
Andrew drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, lips puckered in a silent battle of wills as Leonard gave him a challenging look of his own. Finally, Andrew looked at the ceiling with a huff, one eyelid narrowing as his mind likely whirred with figures. “Over time, pulling the money from your investments will cost you more. But that is not calculating in the worth of a family heirloom. The jeweler will simply look at its practical value and give you the assessed sum. So, assuming you do not care about the sentimental value—” He looked down and met Leonard’s gaze in question. “No, I thought not.” He propped his arms on his desk, tapping a knuckle and creating a soft thumping sound as he finished with his thoughts. “Then it makes sense to sell the ring, assuming you are only concerned about the financial aspect.”
Leonard met his gaze, even surer now of his decision. “Yes, that is the only thing I am concerned about.”
Leonard left the bank and his friend’s sentimentality behind, for now he had a trip to make. Without wasting time, he sent his man of all trades, Fitzroy, to fetch his horse. The weather was well enough, being as Stoneside Manor was only a thirty-minute ride out of town. And he would be needing no luggage, as he had no intention of staying longer than necessary.
Though . . . Leonard stopped in his tracks. He would at least need to stay for dinner, or else his father would be suspicious and inquire as to what Leonard was looking for and the purposeof finding it. While his father would not care one whit about the sentimentality of the ring, he would certainly balk at selling something of such value.
Perhaps he should take the carriage after all.
The ride was soothing, but Leonard’s nerves balled in his stomach as they always did when he made the trip home. Feeling obligated, he did so once a week to check on everything, along with performing odd jobs at the request of his father. His mother just appreciated seeing that he was well.
As the ride lulled him, he thought about the wager which was causing this whole ordeal. One by one his friends had fallen in love over the last nine months—some more reluctantly than others. Their friend Charles had even been tricked into matrimony by his meddling mother. Apparently, with Charles’s vagabond ways, she’d sent her explanatory letters to Leonard’s residence instead of Rowan Ashworth’s, where Charles had been residing. By the time Leonard had figured out the mistake and sent the letters on, it had been too late.
Poor man. While Leonard’s father breathed down his neck and pulled the strings, at the end of the day, Leonard couldn’t imagine he would do something quite that drastic. Though, perhaps he just wasn’t desperate enough yet. Everyone had their limits. And in the end, it had worked out. Charles and his wife fell in love and now live happily married. Leonard would have to keep that secret so that his parents didn’t get any ideas of their own.
Before he was ready, the carriage rolled to a stop at the top of the U-shaped drive, and Leonard made his way up the seventeen stairs to the front door. He counted them each and every time, mentally delaying what would happen behind the doors at the top once he entered them. He opted to knock, since he had not sent notice of his arrival beforehand. It took two attempts for Evans to come to the door.
“Mr. Stanton.” Their doorman, Evans, bowed, stepping back and allowing him in. “I do not believe your family is expecting you.”
“No,” Leonard said, stepping onto the familiar white marble floors. “This was a last-minute trip. I apologize for any inconvenience.”
“I will let your mother know you are here.” Evans dipped into another small bow, then left on his search.
Before his father or Samuel could find him, Leonard rushed down the hall and to the stairs, making his way to his room. Upon opening the door, a gust of cool air greeted him. The room stood as if it hadn’t been touched during his stay in London. Though he knew that wasn’t accurate, as Leonard was aware maids came in and dusted the space, even though it wasn’t currently being used.
Walking across the carpet, Leonard made his way to his wardrobe. It creaked open, and he reached for the top shelf, fingers scraping across the wood until he made contact with a small, velvet box. He drew his hand back, then opened it to be sure the contents were still there.
